Waiting For The Hogfather
by Eileen
Summary: This is technically a crossover between my story Mindshadow go read it if you haven't already! and Terry Pratchett's novel Hogfather. I thought it was a cute little ChristmasHogswatch gift. Happy Holidays to all!


WAITING FOR THE HOGFATHER

(Another idea set in the middle of "Mindshadow", which I swear I will finish sometime this millenium. Brenda is mine; Susan and the Hogfather belong to Terry Pratchett; everyone else belongs to Marvel Comics/Kids WB.)

"'She concentrated,'" Brenda read from the book in front of her. Four eager faces hung on her every word. All right, three eager faces and one who really didn't care, but went along with it because it meant so much to the others. You really couldn't blame Lance for trying.

"'_This _was the simplest talent of them all. She was amazed that other people couldn't do it. She shut her eyes, placed her hands palm down in front of her at shoulder height, spread her fingers and lowered her hands. When they were halfway down she heard the clock stop ticking. The last tick was long-drawn-out, like a death rattle. Time stopped. But _duration _continued.'"

"That would be a cool power to have," Todd said.

Fred shushed him.

The boys could read perfectly well (even Fred, although it took him longer than the others), and they often borrowed Brenda's books to read on their own. But the reading aloud was something special. It had almost become their own little ritual. Since it was December, Brenda had chosen to read _Hogfather._

The boys looked forward to it like anxious children. They were even in their pajamas. (Except of course for Lance, who had to drive Brenda home afterwards.) She was just getting to the good part, too.

"'She was about to leave when she noticed the open door in a place where she had never seen a door before. It was disguised. A whole section of shelving, complete with its whispering glasses, had swung out.'"

They were drinking in her every word, even though they'd all (well, almost all) read it themselves many times before and knew what was going to happen. Reading it was one thing. It was more dramatic to have it **told **to you.

Here was Susan finding the lifetimers of gods and . . . other beings. As she found the shattered remains of the Hogfather's lifetimer, and wondered aloud what her granddad had done . . .

Brenda closed the book with a snap.

Three voices groaned with dismay.

"That's all for tonight," she announced, standing up. "It's nearly half past eight."

Lance fumbled for his car keys.

"That's **it**?" Pietro complained. "You can't leave it **there**!"

"We'll have more next week," Brenda said, tucking the book into her coat pocket. "Good night."

She saw their little faces at the window as the car was pulling out.

"They really like that stuff, huh?" Lance asked her.

She looked at him. "Haven't you ever read any?"

He shrugged. "I got enough trouble keeping up with homework. They sound nice, though. _Soul Music _was fun." They had done that one last month. It was Fred's favorite, because it had Susan in it.

"You don't read, then?"

"Don't have the time."

"Who does?"

"Susan does," Lance said with a grin. "That **would **be a cool power to have. Weird, but cool."

He let her off in front of the book shop. "Well . . .see you."

"Right. Till next week, then."

They'd be seeing each other tomorrow at school, at least in passing, but it wasn't the same. There wasn't the . . . intimacy . . . that came with their Wednesday-night get-togethers.

_And people use that word to mean sex_, Brenda thought as she hurried inside the shop. The little bell over the door jingled. _What dirty minds they have._

The next week, they got up to the Oh God of Hangovers, and the silliness in Unseen University, when Todd brought it up.

"Can we," he asked in the middle of Archchancellor Ridcully's argument with Hex, the thinking engine, "have Hogswatch?"

Brenda nearly dropped the book. "Can we have Hogswatch?" she repeated. "What do you **mean**, can we have Hogswatch?"

The boy looked at the floor. "Sorry, forget I brought it up," he mumbled.

Brenda set the book aside for a moment. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that the way it sounded. Why do you want Hogswatch?"

"Cause Christmas is overdone and none of us is really religious and it would be fun to do something that's just ours, so can we?" Todd looked up at her, hope written across his face.

Brenda thought about it. Why **couldn't **they have their own personal holiday? Aside from international copyright laws, what was to stop them?

"All right," she said. "If we were to have our own personal Hogswatch celebration—"

"Next week!" Todd exclaimed. "Cause I know you're going home for Christmas."

"All right, then. What can we put together in a week?" She felt like the world's youngest kindergarten teacher.

"Stockings!" cried Fred. "We've never had stockings before! Oh, can we, please?"

"Stockings," Brenda said, writing it down.

"And we'll make a cake," Todd suggested.

"Cake."

"Andatreeandtinselandpaperchainsandpunchandcookiesand—"

"Wait a minute!" Brenda was scribbling furiously, trying to keep up. "Okay . . . so far I've got tree, tinsel, paper chains . . .what else?"

"Punch and cookies! AndI'llmakeallthedecorationsandwe'llhavepaperhatsandstreamersandballoonsandthoselittleblowythingsthatmakeanoise—"

"And where," Lance asked, "are we getting the money for all this?"

There was the sound of a train of thought crashing into the wall of reality. They had no money. Unless they asked Mystique, and they couldn't, because she wasn't supposed to know about Brenda's little visits.

"I could bring some stuff," Brenda suggested. "We still have a few odds and ends left over from our last party. And I'll bring some construction paper so we can make hats and paper chains. We'll manage." She smiled. "Shall we continue with the book?"

By the time she went home, it was all planned. They would meet as usual the following week, finish the book (they were nearly done now), and then have their Hogswatch celebration. The boys had found some cake mix in the cellar and promised to have the rest of the decorations up by the time she arrived.

Now that she had something to anticipate, the week dragged on. It seemed that Wednesday would never get here. She bought some construction paper and glitter, and managed to sneak some cookies out of the pantry while no one was looking. The stockings were more difficult. Store-bought stockings were going for a lot these days. Thank heavens for the Dollar Store. She not only found stockings there, but some paper goods as well. No sense breaking the fine china.

The only thing that remained was the question of how to sneak all this out of the house on Wednesday night.

Everyone would be suspicious if she went to work at the book shop with a bag full of stuff. **She** wasn't the Hogfather, after all.

Fortunately, Nick solved that problem by calling Wednesday morning. "Can you bring by the stuff I need for the display?"

"What stuff?" she asked.

"You know," he said, and she could hear a wink and a nudge in his voice, "the special holiday display. The one with the Pratchett books."

"Oh, **that **display." The boys must have gone in and talked to him about their plans. Nick didn't mind covering for their secret get-togethers—he saw himself as their Friar Laurence—and she'd have to give him something extra-special for Hogswatch, erm, Christmas. Whatever.

"Yes, I've got it all together," she said. "I'll be sure and bring it tonight."

"Fine, fine. See you then."

Scott drove her over at quarter of six. The bag of party goods was clutched in her lap, and he kept trying to see what was in the bag. Brenda folded her arms over it nervously. 

"It's Hogs—I mean, Christmas stuff," she said.

"I wasn't trying to look."

"Yes you were! Every time you slow down a bit, you try to get another look at the bag. It's not for you. We're, um, having kind of a party at the shop."

"Oh."

"See you at nine thirty!" she called as she got out of the car.

Nick was just setting up a cardboard display as Brenda entered the shop. It was the one they'd had when _Hogfather_ came out. He'd put a green-and-white garland around it and hung miniature stockings from the front counter.

"HO HO HO," Nick said, trying to sound like Death trying to sound like the Hogfather. 

"Oh, so **you're **the Hogfather, then?" Brenda laughed.

"Yes, but don't tell anyone. It'd spoil the surprise."

Around 6:30 Lance showed up.

In his pajamas.

He had a long coat over them, but Brenda could clearly see blue teddy-bear-print pajama legs sticking out the bottom. 

"Yeah, they talked me into it," he admitted sheepishly. "I just hope I don't get stopped by the cops."

"Don't drive like a maniac, then," she admonished him. "Nick, we're going."

"Hang on a moment." Nick reached under the counter and came up with a paper sack. "There's some crackers in here. Happy Hogswatch."

"And a Porky New Year," Brenda joked, as they left.

The boys had been all day putting up the decorations. Even the front of the house was aglow with enough "borrowed" Christmas lights to be seen from down the road.

A red-and-white banner across the porch awning proclaimed  "MERRY HOGSWATCH"  to one and all. (Someone had pasted "Hogswatch" over "Christmas".)

"You've gone all out," Brenda said.

"Wait till you see the **inside**."

She held her breath as Lance opened the door for her.

It was absolutely beautiful. A real winter wonderland.

The tree in the corner was not that tall, and its branches were a bit scraggly in spots, but lots of tinsel and lights covered the worst of it. Under it was a small pile of clumsily wrapped presents. On the mantel was a magnificent wreath, which she recognized as formerly having hung outside the high school.

_It's not stealing_, she thought, smiling in spite of herself, _it's redistribution._

The boys were gathered around an upright piano which suspiciously resembled the one in the school's music room (how they'd smuggled it out and into the house was a mystery she didn't care to explore), playing Christmas carols from both ends at once.

When Brenda cleared her throat, they came running over.

"Hang on, let's get set up first," she said. She emptied the bag onto a small table between the tree and the piano. The food was laid out, the stockings hung on the mantel, and they spent the next half-hour making paper hats and chains for the tree. 

"Why don't we get to the book?" Brenda suggested, and sat in the big chair. The boys sat on the floor at her feet.

There was only the last little bit left now. She read the rescue of the Hogfather straight through, with no interruptions, except for a cheer at the end, when the sun finally came up.

Suddenly they found themselves holding hands in a circle, singing "Here Comes The Sun." It was a joyful  moment, made all the sweeter by the knowledge that it was a brief one.

"We haven't got much time," Brenda said. "Let's have our punch and cookies while we write our letters to the Hogfather."

"Already done!" Pietro said, holding them up for her inspection.

            _Dere Hoggfather,_

_            For Hoggswacth I woud like some wrestling videos and a new Gam Boy._

_            Dear Hogfather,_

_            I want a yacht and a mansion and a swimming pool and a million dollars, but if you bring me some new socks that's okay too._

_            Dear Hogfather,_

_            I don't need anything, because I'm perfect. But I would like some new black shoes and a full-length mirror to see my wonderfulness in . . ._

_            Dear Hogfather, _

_            Please bring me three sane roommates. Thank you._

"Right . . ." Brenda folded the letters and placed them in an envelope, which she set on the mantel.

"Now let's have a little music!" Pietro sat down at the pilfered piano and pounded out a tune. "I wrote a song for Hogswatch. Here's your copy." He passed out sheets of paper and Brenda saw that it was song lyrics. 

"I didn't know you could play piano."

"There's a lot about me you don't know," the speedster said with a grin. He started to play again. The pounding took shape as an actual song.

They began to sing.

            "Oh, Hogfather, oh Hogfather,

            it's almost time for Hogswatch.

            Oh, Hogfather, oh Hogfather,

            It's almost time for Hogswatch.

            At this auspicious time of year,

            We wish you lots of Hogswatch cheer.

            Oh, Hogfather, oh Hogfather,

            We wish you Happy Hogswatch.

            "Oh, Hogfather, oh Hogfather,

            please bring us lots of presents.

            Oh, Hogfather, oh Hogfather,

            Please bring us lots of presents.

            We've been so good, it's really true.

            We hope to get a gift from you.

            Oh, Hogfather, oh Hogfather,

            We're waiting for our presents."

It went on for several verses about the kind of presents they'd like when Brenda interrupted.

"How many verses **are **there?"

"One hundred and forty-seven," Pietro said.

"One hundred and forty-**seven**?"

"Yeah, I was bored."

"Well, we don't have time for the rest! Let's just sing the last one and then open our crackers."

There was the sound of several hundred pages turning at once.

            "Oh, Hogfather, oh Hogfather,

            we really do believe in you.

            Oh, Hogfather, oh Hogfather,

            We really do believe in you.

            We really do believe, it's true,

            And we'll be good the whole year through.

            Oh, Hogfather, oh Hogfather,

            We'll have a Happy Hogswatch!"

_Thank God that's over, _Brenda thought, as the boys dove for the pile of crackers. They amused themselves for several minutes by popping the crackers and playing with whatever little odds and bobs came tumbling out. There was going to be an awful mess to clean up afterwards. 

She looked at her watch . . . then tapped it. **That ** couldn't be right, could it?

She double-checked with the clock in the kitchen. Yes, unfortunately, it was.

"We have to clean up now!" she announced, making an effort to scoop bits of paper off the floor. "It's nearly nine!"

Lance got his coat on. 

"You can't leave **now**!" Todd cried out, throwing his arms around her.

"I have to! Mystique will be home any minute. Do you want her to see all this?"

That got them into action. "I'll get the vacuum," said Pietro.

"I'll bring you your stocking tomorrow," Todd said to Brenda. "You don't mind, do you?"

"No," she said, smiling.

Brenda and Lance got out the door mere seconds before Mystique's car pulled up. She stalked to the front door, then stopped in her tracks. "Where did all this **come **from?"

The boys were frantically cleaning up the remains of the little party when the door crashed open. "WHERE DID YOU GET ALL THESE DECORATIONS?" Mystique demanded. 

"Uh . . . we sorta found them, yo," Todd said. 

"AND HOW DID THAT PIANO GET OUT OF THE MUSIC ROOM?"

"It took a walk to stretch its . . .legs?" 

"GET TO YOUR ROOMS **NOW!**"

"But we were gonna clean this up . . ."

"LEAVE IT!"

As the boys scattered, Mystique stomped into the kitchen. There was a bottle of sherry sitting on the table. Good. She could use a stiff drink about now.

"Oh no! We forgot to put out the glass of sherry for the Hogfather!" Todd exclaimed.

"He'll find it," Fred said.

"Unless Mystique drinks it all," said Pietro.

My, this was good stuff. She didn't even care that it might have been stolen at this point. She poured herself another glass. How many was that now? Four? Five? What came after five? 

Mystique flopped down in the big chair, her head swimming. Her last thought before she passed out was: _What's that glingle-glingle-glingle noise?_

Brenda had had an easier time of it after the party broke up. She got home all right, and there were no questions asked, not even why she had confetti in her hair.

At school the next day, she wondered if the piano had been returned yet. The wreath was definitely gone for good.

"He came! He came!"

She looked around.

Todd ran up to her, holding out a loaded stocking. "See? The Hogfather came! We all got loads of stuff in ours this morning!"

"You didn't get in much trouble, I hope?"

"Not a **whole **lot. So, open it!"

There were only three minutes till the bell. She looked around nervously.

"Mystique's not here today," Todd said. "She's, um, not feeling well. She kind of accidentally drank the Hogfather's sherry."

"Oh." Brenda kind of wished she'd stayed for that. She upended the stocking and dumped the contents on the ground, hoping none of them were breakable.

There were little foil-wrapped chocolates, some socks and underwear (the Hogfather **always **gave you socks and underwear), a couple of hair brushes, and . . . something at the bottom she couldn't quite see.

She reached in and pulled it out.

It was a framed photograph of two girls at a party. Judging by the dresses they were wearing, it was a wedding, and they both were bridesmaids.

The one on the left Brenda recognized immediately as her mother, younger than she'd ever seen her. But the one on the right . . .

"Where did you get this?" Todd said, in something like awe.

"I don't know. Why?"

Todd tapped the picture. "That's my mother. That's her, when she was our age. What's she doing with you?"

"That's not me, that's my mother. Hang on, there's something on the bottom of the frame. 'Peggy and Jenny, at Bob and Nancy's wedding, June 1983.'"

"I didn't know they knew each other."

Brenda and Todd stared at each other a moment. It was as if it was meant to be.

"Thank you, Hogfather," Brenda whispered.


End file.
